


Wish You the Last Goodnight

by Painless_papercuts



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Death, Death from Old Age, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Old Age, Poetry, take your pick, terminal illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2013-04-19
Packaged: 2017-12-08 21:20:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/766138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Painless_papercuts/pseuds/Painless_papercuts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short poem.</p>
<p>Sherlock watches John lose his final battle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wish You the Last Goodnight

**Author's Note:**

> I may have shed a few tears while writing this.
> 
> Title comes from the lyrics of 'Predictions' by Roy Bailey.

 

The grip of your hand in mine grows weak,

Year after year, decades, now in your final hours

I brush the greying wisps of your hair from a  cheek,

As a fragile as gossameres, as weathered as pitted parchment

The creases creeping across your face

Show your stresses, struggles, sacrifices. Love. Loss.

Your last battle.

Your breath rattles from your hollows chest, slowing,

Fading until the last is stolen away

Into the silence. Into the abyss.

 

I press my lips to your cooling forehead, once, twice,

Clasp your pliant hand in my own.

Tears of loss, of grief, of relief,

Swallowed by the wrinkles of your still silence,

Your all-consuming death.

 

They found me several days later,

In the same position; doubled over your body.

Second-hand tears streaked down your face,

They tried to make me leave you, but you would not

Let me go.

I walked away with your hand grasping my heart,

Gripping me with the real grief that eats you inside-out.

Swallows you whole.

 

I remember the life we shared, the life you lived.

Our time seemed infinite, you at my side,

As solid warmth, stubborn friend, soft love. John.

Expanding laughter lines whispered your story,

Smoothed out in your sleep.

Forever smooth now.

 

I shouldn't have been surprised; death is part of being human.

But loving humans has a cost, I learnt as

I watched you slowly fade away,

Not like leaves that fall in Autumn,

Turning gold against the grey.

Fading away.

Hearing your fraying, slowing, beating life,

Wondering with each passing moment.

Every breath, counting: One. Two... None.

Gone.

 

I considered greeting the Reaper before my time,

But I know that you will wait.

Wait until I have lived the life that you could not.

You will be there to meet me,

And once more your hand will be in mine.

And I will not let you go. Not this time.

 

So every day I live, lungs breathing, heart beating,

And every night I brush my teeth, change my clothes,

Lie awake on the bed we shared;

Your side cold, my side likewise,

And I wait. Wait. Wait and hope.

Hope that you will one night take my hand in yours

Once more,

And pull me towards you, laughing as we depart

This life. Hand in hand.

 

You are yet to come.

I will wait.

 

I still wait.

**Author's Note:**

> If convenient, let me know what you think. If inconvenient, let me know all the same.


End file.
